May I Hold You Tonight?
by MyLittleElphie
Summary: Meeting again after years and years of separation, Glinda and Elphaba finally confess their long-harboured feelings for each other. But is love going to be enough in a relationship where both women's expectations and needs are so fundamentally different? Gelphie. AU. Bookverse(ish).
1. 1 For Old Time

_**AN:**_

 _Aaaaaand here we go! The beginning of a new story!_

 _Now you will probably have noticed that this story is M-rated and this is for a reason. But at the same time, those of you who are waiting for a lot of juicy smut should know that things will be... frustrating. Maybe even VERY frustrating. If you're still in it for the story, this might work out okay for you though lol_

 _Also, this is AU with some elements taken from the book (everything up until Elphaba leaving Shiz and a few nuggets here and thereafter). I put a few pieces of info in this first chapter to get you up to speed, but some of you might find that tedious or confusing. If any questions arise, I'm happy to answer them. If they come in more frequently than I expected, I'll consider writing a quick summary. Everyone who hasn't read the books - just go with the flow ;)_

 _And now, with not much further ado, I present the first chapter of 'May I Hold You Tonight?'!_

 _Happy reading! :3_

* * *

 **1\. F** **or Old Times' Sake**

For all Glinda knew, it would be an enjoyable, yet thoroughly uneventful afternoon. Her driver stopped the cab in front of the exclusive _Emerald Queen Hotel,_ where she and her cronies had arranged to meet for tea and a footman hopped off the back of the carriage to open the door for her. Although the distance between the curb and the overstated double doors was merely a couple of steps, she opened her parasol as she disembarked the vehicle, mindful to avoid even the slightest hint of summer sun. She was no longer the heedless adolescent she had once been and knew that, if one wasn't careful enough, beauty could be a terribly fleeting blessing.

As soon as she had climbed the flight of marble stairs, a doorman took her parasol and called for a page, who would show her to her table. "The other ladies of your party have already arrived," he informed her with a bow.

They had indeed. Glinda had barely set a foot into the tearoom, when she was already greeted by the merry lot's silly laughter. She briefly rolled her eyes, but put on a bright smile before approaching the group of young women. "Good afternoon, Ladies."

"Glinda!" The first, a tall blonde named Bonna, jumped to her feet to embrace her friend. Glinda retuned the gesture in a rather economic fashion, slightly patting the other woman's back before detaching herself from her arms.

"You look great. I trust your holidays went well? No unpleasant surprises like last time?"

"Nothing of that sort," Bonna replied, taking her seat again. "But let me tell you, it was a boring affair. I wish I could have travelled with one of you girls. I missed you so."

"Maybe next time," another woman, a rather plump redhead, tried to assure her, but everyone knew that this was unlikely to happen. When Bonna went on one of her trips, this usually entailed a visit to her parents, who were living someplace in the southern part of the Glikkus – a very rural area, where barely any roads were paved and, what was worse, uncomfortably close to the border with the riotous Munchkinland. Similar to Glinda, Bonna had come to status and money through marriage, only her origins were far humbler than Glinda's. Also, the renowned Lady Chuffrey had succeeded in keeping her own heritage a secret, shrouding the circumstances of her upbringing in mystery and emphasising her Shiz education and wealthy husband instead. The same could not be said from poor Bonna, whose lips were not quite as tightly sealed at times.

The group settled down over a few glasses of _Old Smaragd_ and since the party was finally complete, the waitstaff began serving the tiered platters, filled with dozens of different kinds of treats. Glinda began with a scone, as was proper. She broke off a small, bite-sized piece and topped it with saffron cream. The nostalgic taste brought her back several years and back to Shiz. She felt melancholy creeping into her heart and quickly put aside the unsettling piece of bread in favour of a raspberry tart, propriety be damned.

As the platters slowly emptied, the conversation moved from one topic to another. If she was honest, Glinda was a little bored, yet she didn't want to leave. No matter how tedious, she craved the company, for in her luxurious Emerald City townhouse only loneliness was awaiting her. So she stayed put, listening to the subtle background music while nibbling on her cake and absentmindedly stirring her tea. Every now and then, she nodded her head or offered her opinion if absolutely necessary, but most of the time, she kept herself occupied with watching other guests coming and leaving, the staff bustling about with towers of dishes, or the trio of children chasing a small terrier around the salon.

When a mother leading a toddler by the hand passed the ladies' table, the little girl dropped her doll at Bonna's feet. The woman was too absorbed in her conversation to notice. Distraught, the child tugged at her mother's hand and began to cry. Glinda quickly slipped off her seat and stooped down next to her friend to retrieve the toy. With a wide smile, she passed it on to the girl, who immediately swallowed her tears. The mother said her thanks, picked up her daughter and the two left. Glinda rose, still watching them and wondering how it would have been to be blessed with a sweet child of her own – not an uncommon thought for her.

The sadness lingered for a while, before it was chased away by utter astonishment as a page showed another guest through the door. The tall woman, tightly swathed in black garments, was quite a sight to behold and yet no one else in the room seemed to pay her any attention. With impossibly high cheekbones and a nose like a hawk's, her face was distinctive and easy to recognise - even if it hadn't been for the green colour of her skin. Glinda's breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she stood frozen in place, unable to move as much as a little finger. Then, she fled to the relative safety of her chair, hiding among her friends.

Her hand pressed to her chest, she tried to calm her racing heart that caused her face to flush so unbecomingly. Her head was overrun by memories and raw emotion, yet felt so terribly empty at the same time, as all wit seemed to have left her. Oh, how long had she yearned for this moment, but now that it had come, she was mortified at the prospect of facing the person she had so dearly missed.

Naturally, her panicked state did not go unnoticed by her friends. "Glinda, love, are you quite alright? You look like you have seen a ghost."

More concerned pairs of eyes were now trained on her. Her neighbour gently took her hand to stroke it. "I…" Glinda felt pathetic. How did that mean, green thing have such a power over her, even though she probably hadn't even realised yet that the two of them were currently occupying the same room? "I am not feeling too well," she finally managed and began to fiddle with her reticule. "Perhaps, I ought to go home and rest."

She slowly rose to her feet while her friends expressed their get-well wishes. Bonna and Lady Dewflower, the brunette sitting next to her, offered to walk her to her carriage, but Glinda insisted that she didn't wish to further interrupt their merriment. "Do not worry about me, I will see you all next week," she promised, before turning around and heading straight for the exit.

Her feet did not depart from her course, but her eyes covertly searched the room for any hint of green. She stopped a serving maid, enquiring for directions to the hotel's conservatory, as an excuse to turn around and scan the section behind her. At last, she was able to locate Elphaba, huddled in a corner, next to a window. Glinda's heart clenched at the sight. Her Elphie still looked very much the awkward, lanky girl she had been at Shiz. Even the book in her hand was authentic Elphaba.

She nodded at the instructions from the maid - although she had not registered a single word of them – and continued on her way. At the door, she paused to talk to the butler. "Do you happen to know if Miss Thropp is expecting company?" she enquired pleasantly.

The man's face mirrored his surprise perfectly and Glinda suppressed a little laugh. But he recovered quickly and shook his head. "I cannot be certain, of course, but I doubt it. Miss Thropp usually enjoys her tea in solitude."

Now it was Glinda's turn to be astounded and her eyes widened. " _Usually_?" she repeated.

"Well, yes. Miss Thropp has been staying with us for about two weeks now and her daily routine has been rather consistent ever since."

This revelation stung. Obviously, Elphaba had no plans whatsoever to contact her old friend. If she did, she wouldn't have deferred it this long. Now, this didn't come as a surprise at all. In fact, Glinda would have been far more shocked if Elphaba had one day simply showed up at her doorstep. But the truth and the reality of it still left her speechless for a moment. She had always wondered whether their friendship had really been this one-sided that she was the only one mourning the loss of what they'd shared. She had never understood how Elphaba could have been so heartless to leave her so suddenly and out of the blue, without a hint or warning or goodbye. And what was worse, even after her great-grandfather's men had retrieved her, not a single letter, not one word had ever reached her. At one point, she had sworn to herself that Elphaba was dead to her. But she couldn't do it. She still thought too often of her roommate from Shiz and too fondly. If Elphaba wasn't going to come to her, she would go to Elphaba and be it at the cost of looking like a desperate fool.

"If that is so," she replied, her composure reestablished, "how long does Miss Thropp _usually_ enjoy her tea?"

Raising his eyebrows at the question, the butler craned his neck to see past Glinda, catching a glance at his guest. "If that book of hers is good enough, Miss Thropp will probably stay until we close the tea salon."

A small smile flashed over Glinda's face as she nodded. "Very well then. I will take a walk and return later to have a little chat with Miss Thropp." At the man's confused expression, she simply said, "it's a business my friends need not know about. I would rather they remained oblivious." She inclined her head and left, picking up her parasol from the reception before leaving the building.

* * *

An hour later, or maybe two, Glinda once again found herself at the entrance to the _Emerald Queen Hotel._ She hesitated to walk through the door. She craved to see her Elphie, but she was also scared. Scared of what her old friend would say when she saw her, afraid of rejection and perhaps also a little bit afraid of her own feelings. She didn't trust herself to not turn into a sobbing mess upon meeting Elphaba and especially upon being sent away if that were to happen. She had half a mind to turn around and call for her carriage. After eight years of separation, what would be another fifty or sixty?

But she didn't turn around. Either bold or maybe simply foolish, she put a foot forward and took the first step. She returned to the tearoom, hurrying at first, but overcome with doubts, she soon began to waver and look back every other moment. She approached the door and stopped by the butler's side. "Is she still there?" she asked uselessly, for she could clearly see the green face by the window, poorly hidden by the small book in her equally green hands. But she needed the extra time to gather her courage.

"Miss Thropp just finished her sweets, but requested another cup of tea," was the butler's dutifully indulging answer.

"Thank you." Glinda cast the man a grateful, yet decidedly nervous smile and needlessly straightened the skirt of her dress before she set in motion.

She walked slowly, yet deliberately; gracefully, she almost seemed to float through the salon. Every move was orchestrated, just like back when she had always been in the eye of the public, attending dinner parties and balls with her husband. This time, however, she was not out to impress. This time, she was hiding in plain sight, pretending the past eight years had left her unaffected and unchanged. Who knew how long she would be able to keep up the charade and whether Elphaba would buy any of this to begin with, but after what Elphaba had done to her, she did not deserve to know how strongly she still for her felt.

Two steps away from Elphaba's table, she halted. She watched her for a little while, taking in every painfully familiar feature. Her hair was still as thick and lush as it always had been and just as dark. Her green might have become a little less vivid over the past few years, but then again, the image of vibrant emerald skin that she had preserved in her memory might have been a product of nostalgia and adoration. She couldn't be sure. Her eyes had lost none of their sparkle though. If anything, she thought they looked more alive now than ever before.

A silent sigh. As much as she appreciated the opportunity to reacquaint herself with Elphaba's presence, Glinda did feel a little disappointed at being so thoroughly overlooked. If she hadn't known her so intimately from the time they had shared their living quarters, she would have thought Elphaba's ignorance deliberate, but already reading the title of the book she was so immersed in ( _On the ethics of animal husbandry and Animal employment_ ), she knew that there was no one in all of Oz, who could possibly have elicited any reaction from Elphaba Thropp. It was obvious that the burden of the first word would have to fall to her.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" This phrase had tradition for the two women. Back at Shiz, Glinda had often asked Elphaba about her books – sometimes only to be polite, but if the subject was of any importance for one of her classes, she tended to show genuine interest.

Although she was already sitting with her back straight and rigid, Glinda still noticed Elphaba stiffen. It took her a few heartbeats before she caught her eye, but once the identity of the bothersome disturber was confirmed, her hands slowly dropped, her fingers robotically marking the page as she closed the book. The two former roommates stared at each other, both lost for words. Glinda was a nervous wreck, struggling under the pressure to maintain her cool appearance.

And Elphaba? Elphaba was nothing if not confused. Somehow, the petite blonde standing right in front of her did not compute. She couldn't figure out why she was so surprised either. This was the Emerald City after all, the stomping ground of the rich and beautiful and Glinda was both. And of course, she had heard about the wedding between the lovely Glinda Arduenna and the well-heeled Sir Chuffrey. She had received an invitation to said event as well, but business and duty had not allowed her to leave Colwen Grounds at the time. Or so she had told herself.

She caught herself getting bogged in oppressive thoughts and forced her mind to return to the present. She shifted slightly and reached out to pull back a chair for her unexpected company. "I see you have improved your sense of fashion," she commented casually upon realising the unusually dark coloration of her also surprisingly simple dress (for Galinda's standards).

Glinda looked away at that, in the direction of the window, but her gaze downcast. "Blame my dear husband, who burdened me with this dreadful attire by dying on me just six months ago."

Elphaba's mouth opened and closed again. "My condolences," she said finally. "I'm sorry I-"

"Don't be," Glinda cut her off. "He was a dear friend, but I'm not even half as affected as I ought to be, so don't be shy cracking one of your snarky jests." She took the seat Elphaba had offered and put a measured smile on her lips when she looked up. A serving girl placed a cup of tea, sugar and a jug of cream in front of her.

"So you're officially a Lady now. And as I understand, you must be stinking rich as the widow of a…"

"Baronet. Chuffrey was a baronet." Elphaba huffed and took a sip of her tea. "What is so funny?" Glinda asked slightly irritably.

"Not funny at all; rather disappointing if I may be so frank." Frowning, the blonde tilted her head. "Only a baronet," Elphaba said, shaking her head and placing her cup on the saucer. "Not even a baron or viscount. You sold yourself cheap."

"Not cheap at all," Glinda ground out between gritted teeth. She couldn't believe that Elphaba had the nerve to actually say such things straight to her face. But then again, Elphaba never minced words. If she wanted to say something, she certainly made sure to be heard.

"Is that what everything comes down to then? Money? Is that how you measure your worth?"

"And you just suggested I measure it based on my title. What is the worth of a title these days, when the common merchant possesses more than many a noble man and one's status is measured in riches more than anything. Besides, no matter their treasures or name, nobody of any rank will ever have enough power to oppose the Wizard." She leaned back and looked straight into Elphaba's eyes. "Because that is what you're after, is it not?"

"If I have learnt anything over the past few years, it is what persuasive power a claim can have."

Now it was Glinda's turn to shake her head. "I have no intentions to tread on your toes, Elphie, but we all know how that worked out. Nessa might have accomplished the secession, but in the end, she was not able to wield that power."

Elphaba didn't seem offended. Perhaps, Glinda's use of her pet name had mellowed her down a little. "Gillikin isn't Munchkinland," she argued calmly.

"You are right, it is not. For one, no single baron or even viscount would be dominant enough to unite all the counties under one banner and force a split from greater Oz."

"A margreave might," Elphaba countered, shrugging her shoulders.

Glinda's eyebrows rose. "Why Elphie, it would appear you had big plans for me. Say, would you have come back to me if I had lived up to your soaring expectations? To share your plots and scheme with me, I mean."

Elphaba flinched at that and had the decency to look somewhat abashed. "That was certainly not what I meant. I never saw you as an expedient."

"You know," Glinda said with a dismissive wave of her dainty hand, "I used to be arrogant enough to assume I was important enough for you to return after your little escape attempt to the big city. As it turned out, none of us were – not Fiyero and not even Boq. You never returned to our small circle, our Shiz."

"It has never been _my_ Shiz, you know that fully well. And from the day that Doctor Dillamond was gone, nothing held me there anymore." Glinda inhaled sharply and held her breath. Underneath the table, her lace-gloved hands clutched the fabric of her dress. She had always suspected as much, yet part of her had held on tightly to the hope that there was another reason for Elphaba's return to Munchkinland. But Elphaba wasn't finished yet. "I realised my mistake sometime later, when my great-grandfather began to groom me for a position I never intended to take."

Upon hearing this, the smaller woman straightened up a bit, a hint of joy and courage returning to her still heavy heart. "Yes, I remember how you told me that you never wanted the Eminency. And you didn't take it in the end."

"No. My great-grandfather died and father was adamant that the title should go to Nessa. I agreed to that, but stayed to support and council her. But as I probably should have foreseen, the only support she wanted from me was that of a caretaker and my council went unheeded. Funny, how we all tend to fall back into old patterns. I stayed by her side until the very end, but there's no denying it; she was out of control."

A small hand found Elphaba's bigger one and gently squeezed it. "I'm sorry for your loss." Elphaba didn't reply to that, but nodded slightly. "Yet I'm grateful to have found you here and well. The first few weeks after the coup d'état, I expected any day to read in the papers that the last member of the Thropp family wound up dead in some muddy river. Once everything had calmed down, I believed you must have fled Oz and would never be seen again. To see you walk through that door, into the tea salon of an Emerald City hotel…" Her voice had become thick as she became worse and worse at covering up her emotions.

"Hooray, surprise," Elphaba joked wryly and received a weak swat from Glinda.

"You know, my house is big enough and largely empty. You could stay there for some while."

Elphaba hesitated to give an answer at first. She averted her gaze, looking out of the window, pretending to watch the people strolling through the hotel's famous garden of emerald roses. "The hotel is fine," she murmured at last, the hand she was leaning her chin on partly obstructing her speech. Then, she folded her arms and stared down on them. "Plus, I don't want to cause you any trouble."

Glinda shook her head, hoping not to appear too eager, or even desperate. "Oh, you stubborn, green thing. You can't have taken much money with you when you escaped head over heels."

She could see Elphaba chewing her lip as she mulled over her suggestion. When she thought her friend had finally decided to agree, Elphaba said, "I'm staying here." A hardly restrained groan of frustration escaped Glinda's mouth. "A family friend is paying for my room. I don't want to come across as ungrateful."

"Well, if that is indeed the case, as your _personal_ friend and former roommate, I lay claim to taking over this great burden of providing your accommodation for the time being." Despite her rather passionate declaration, Elphaba still looked uncertain. "Well, think about it: You don't want to be a burden, but do you have an idea how much the rent for this room you are occupying is? For me, on the other hand, having you stay in my guestroom doesn't cost a single green shilling." She paused briefly, then smiled, confident of victory. "And Oz knows you barely eat anything. Feeding you will hardly ruin me. "

"You won't let this go, will you?" the green woman sighed and Glinda reached out to touch her arms.

"Please, Elphie. For old times' sake."


	2. 2 Living Arrangements

**_AN:_**

 _Hey, it's me again and with a new chapter!_

 _Something I forgot to mention last week: for now updates will come in weekly, either Monday or Tuesday NZST. I might speed up later, but this isn't a promise. Actually, I said I'd start 'The Queens of Oz' on 01/01/2016, so I'll have to start writing chaps for both stories soon xD Well, we'll see what happens._

 _Also: I should not forget to mention how much appreciate the overwhelming support for this story so far! 9 reviews, 3 favourites and 9 follows after the first chapter?! That's CRAZY! Now I only pray that this fic will live up to everyone's expectations, but I promise I'll try!_

 _~O~O~O~O~O~_

 ** _Jessica and Guest:_**

 _Thank you two so much for being among the 9 awesome ppl who reviewed! Thanks for reading!_

 _~O~O~O~O~O~_

 _Ok, that's it for now, I suppose..._

 _As always: Happy reading! :3_

 _xoxo MLE_

* * *

 **Living Arrangements**

All her remaining possessions gathered in a beaten carpetbag, Elphaba embarked the hansom cab that would bring her to Glinda's town house. This morning, she'd had too little food and too much coffee. Now it was four in the afternoon and as a result of her skipping lunch as well as tea, her stomach clenched. Or perhaps the reason was an entirely different one. After all, Elphaba Thropp had gone for longer periods without food before – a good book that waited to be read, urgent treatises that wanted to be written, or deep thoughts that needed to be thought were all perfectly valid excuses for forgoing sustenance every now and then.

Perhaps, it was the imminent meeting that had her insides in such uproar, or rather the commitment that was associated with the acceptance of Glinda's hospitality. She had hesitated to agree to her old friend's offer, not only out of modesty, but also out of indolence. Living with Glinda would mean that she had to face all the confusing uncertainty she had left behind the night she had fled Shiz. The blonde had always stood out to her between her other friends and not only because of the kindness she had shown her. No, it had begun much earlier, when they had barely started to be civil with each other. And till the day she had left, Elphaba had never been able to place this feeling she'd had about Glinda. Even worse, the moment she had found her standing beside her table in the tea salon of the hotel, all these inconvenient feelings had immediately rushed back to her, rendering her much less sharp and much more malleable than she usually was. She could only imagine what living together once again under the same roof – _Glinda's_ roof - would do to her wits. The prospect scared her.

The carriage came to an abrupt halt and the driver announced their arrival at the address Elphaba had provided. The green woman sighed and grumbled to herself about the disappointing shortness of the trip. She gathered her bag and clambered out of the vehicle. In passing, she tipped the cabbie, her eyes already fixed on the mint green front door of her new temporary home. She cringed at the thought, her gut full of dread.

She tried to check the nameplate before ringing the bell, but there was none. On a second look, there wasn't even as much as a house number. Of course, everyone in the Emerald City who had business with Sir or Lady Chuffrey would know how to find them. She only hoped that the cabbie frequented this area of the city often enough to know what he was doing – neighbours of Glinda's certainly wouldn't appreciate a green stranger greeting them when they opened the door.

When Elphaba had finally brought herself to ring, the door opened mere seconds later. She would have thought Glinda excessively eager, however, the person standing in the entrance was not her former roommate, but a middle-aged man in a shiny, dark grey suit. "May I ask who is calling?" he enquired with a small sniff.

Elphaba cocked an eyebrow. Surely, Glinda was expecting her and surely her green skin was enough of a giveaway to render any questions concerning her person unnecessary – unless she was indeed at the wrong door. "My name is Elphaba Thropp," she replied stiffly. "I was told this is the Chuffrey Residence."

The man nodded, his eyes scanned the unusual guest from head to toe. "Do you have a calling card, Lady Thropp?"

She felt like turning around there and then. While thanks to her more recent years at Colwen Grounds these sorts of procedures were not unfamiliar to her, she despised the rigid and pretentious protocols observed by the higher class. If this was how Glinda expected her to spend the next couple of weeks, maybe even months, she might as well return to her lofty hotel suite. "Surely a green woman needs no further introduction. I am an old friend of Lady Chuffrey's and she was so kind to invite me."

"Very well." The man first took a deep breath, then Elphaba's valise. "Please follow me."

Elphaba thought that he must have felt her distaste for formality and dropped the honorific and her name accordingly. Alternatively, he might have tried to express his disdain, but she didn't care either way. After leaving her cape and umbrella behind at the coat hook next to the door, she was lead along a narrow corridor, passing several rooms. The door to the final room was open and she was asked to take a seat by the fireplace. The snooty man in the grey suit left and a slim, elderly woman with wispy hair, forced into a bun, entered instead. Elphaba already felt overwhelmed by the busyness of the relatively small place. She could not quite explain why she had imagined Glinda to live alone – she most definitely was not the type to do her own chores if money could save her the trouble.

"Tea, dear?" The elderly woman was a pleasant surprise. She had outright skipped all formalities in a very non-condescending manner and had immediately assumed a much more friendly stance. Although it was only a guess, Elphaba supposed that might Glinda have told the woman about her.

And so Elphaba waited in Glinda's drawing room. That Glinda took so long to greet her personally worried her. Maybe she was not as glad to accommodate her as she had pretended to be the other day. What if her staying here was much more of a burden than Glinda had let on? Glinda had also not come to see her over the past four days since their initial meeting. Elphaba wasn't sure whether this was another reason for concern or whether she had simply begun to develop unreasonable expectations.

Unbeknownst to Elphaba, Glinda was standing right outside the door; in fact, she had been since Mister Understar, her butler whom she much preferred to call Puggles, had informed her of Lady Thropp's arrival. She was watching her with excruciating anxiety, brutally twisting her handkerchief in her hands.

"Tea, Mum?" Miss Murth asked her a notch louder than necessary. Glinda briefly glared at the poor woman.

"Not in the corridor, thank you." Heaving a last sigh, she plastered a tepid smile on her lips and pushed down the door handle. As expected, Elphaba's dark brown eyes were already trained in her direction. "Oh, Elphie, I'm so glad you came!"

She quickly crossed the room and her guest slowly stood to meet her. Her hands reached for Elphaba's and when they touched, intense warmth flooded her heart. It was this warmth that made her act with caution. She suppressed the wide smile that threatened to spread across her face and made sure not to come too close. She couldn't resist, however, to lean in and place a quick peck on her friend's cheek. If asked, she would simply pretend it were fashionable among the women of the capital. The kiss turned out much less fleeting than she had planned and when she finally noticed, she immediately took a step back. "Please sit," she said and gestured towards the chair Elphaba had previously occupied.

They had tea and Miss Murth brought in a tray of salmon and creamed egg sandwiches. Elphaba had difficulties gauging the situation. She could tell that, even in the privacy of her own home, Glinda was holding back. It was much harder to tell, however, whether she did so out of tact, or whether she was simply uncomfortable in Elphaba's presence. She was the first to admit that eight years had changed each of them significantly and it wasn't all that impossible that they simply had become estranged. Yet in direct contradiction to that cool attitude Glinda had shown so far, stood that brief kiss she had pressed to Elphaba's cheek when they had greeted. Figuring out what to make of it was impossible, especially in the current context. But even in the past, for all her affectionate nature, Glinda had never kissed her before in any way.

Their talk was brief and almost as soon as Elphaba had finished the last of her sandwich, Glinda jumped to her feet, ringing a small silver bell that had been sitting on the mantelpiece. A young maid Elphaba had not met before hurried into the room, bowing her head first to her mistress, then to her guest. When she noticed Elphaba's skin, she froze for a moment, but recovered quickly. "You have called for me, Mum?"

The blonde nodded curtly. "Yes, Mirrtle, please be so good and show Miss Thropp to her room." The girl nodded stiffly, briefly glancing at the green woman. Turning towards Elphaba, Glinda said, "Please excuse me for cutting our chat so short and for not showing you around at this point. I promise I will make up for it later. But for now, I have urgent documents that need to be dealt with. I know you understand." Elphaba nodded and followed the maid out of the drawing room.

Drawing a shuddering breath, Glinda leaned against the mantelpiece and closed her eyes for a tick-tock. Of course, she'd had all intentions to show Elphaba to her room herself - she'd even spent the past few days scouring the city's many shops in search of a few accessories that she hoped would make the guestroom a tad homier for her friend. But already, she had difficulties dealing with Elphaba's presence. After years of separation, it seemed like all her emotions, be they fear, little misgivings, loneliness or deep longing, had piled up and now threatened to overwhelm her. Having Elphaba here, in her own home, was too much, too soon. Sending her away, however, wasn't an option. So she would have to learn to handle the situation.

* * *

After dinner, they retired to the music room. Elphaba took some time to appreciate the old grand piano in the centre, but had no desire to try it out. Not that evening, anyway. They got comfortable in a set of enormous and incredibly plush armchairs and Miss Murth served a decanter of wine, along with two large glasses. She was already on her way out, when Glinda called for her to wait. "Thank you, this will be all for tonight. Go to bed early, or go out and catch up with your little group of friends." The woman smiled knowingly and bowed her head. "And do make sure to pass the message on to the others." Miss Murth nodded and left, gently closing the door behind her.

Glinda continued looking at the closed door for a little longer, clumsily buying herself some time. Elphaba used the opportunity to inspect the room further, inwardly scoffing at every needless detail and excessive expense. She found an ornate bookshelf in between two oil paintings, which held her interest until Glinda began to speak. "Well, Elphie, I believe we ought to drink to your moving in with me."

Elphaba turned around, slightly dazed. She had been too busy studying the titles of the books to really listen. She watched Glinda pouring some wine in her glass and pushing it towards her.

"To the rekindling of an interesting friendship," Glinda said solemnly and lifted her glass.

"Thanks for having me," Elphaba replied out of lack for better words.

Glinda took a sip and nodded. "Do you like it?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Elphaba examined the swirling, red liquid in her glass. "I don't know. It doesn't taste bad, but I doubt I could offer a more sophisticated judgment on any wine." Glinda laughed - surprisingly naturally, she noted.

"We haven't seen each other in so long," the blonde said pensively and reached out a hand. The chairs were so far apart that only her fingertips managed to touch Elphaba's arm. "We have so much to catch up on that I don't even know where to start."

Quite unwilling to talk about herself, Elphaba was quick to think of some questions that would keep Glinda occupied for a while. "What do you know of Boq? Fiyero?"

"Boq?" Glinda asked, vaguely upset. "What would I know of _him_? Other than that he built himself and Milla a little home in Munchkinland."

"Oh." Elphaba hadn't heard of him since Shiz and had somehow expected that he would have tried making his fortune elsewhere. She had clearly underestimated his loyalty to his family, or country, or maybe both. A frown appeared on her forehead. If he was still in Munchkinland and Milla, too, things might not be going great for them. "And no word from Fiyero?" she asked again to put her mind off troubling questions neither of them had any answers to.

Glinda bit her lip. She had seen him a few times, but they had barely spoken. She was unlikely to confess her prejudice towards the dark-skinned Vinkun, which was particularly ridiculous in face of her fondness for her green friend, but she was much more ready to admit (at least to herself) to the slight feeling of jealousy she harboured towards him. Their differentness had always been something Elphaba and Fiyero had been able to bond over, while Glinda was not only integrated, but right in the centre of society – someone who would never be able to fully understand the emotional turmoil of being an outcast. "He has changed," she told Elphaba. "He's wearing suits now and he talks differently, too. I believe he hopes to impress his trade partners." Secretly, she hoped that this information would put Elphaba off and indeed, there were no further questions about the Arjiki prince.

"But I do still see Crope every now and then," Glinda offered after a moment of silence, if only to complete and tick off the topic. "He is doing well for himself, but he has never been quite the same after what happened to Tibbett at that dreadful Philosophy Club."

Elphaba was curious and worried, but didn't dare to ask. She remembered that night well and the memory was loaded with too much guilt to be stirred up. "I'm glad you at least came out of this experience unscarred," she said quietly, studying her fingers stroking the fabric of her simple cotton dress. She could feel Glinda's eyes on her and she could sense that the matter irritated her.

"If you had ever been that concerned, you would have at least written." Elphaba supposed she was right, but was not going to voice that admission. "Actually, I got cold feet as soon as we stood in front of the establishment and asked the driver to return me to our dorm – which, to my great shock, I found cold and empty." Her voice almost unnoticeably hitched. They once more sat in their chairs, facing away from each other and keeping their thoughts to themselves.

The melodic ring of the mantelpiece clock brought Elphaba back to reality. She cocked her head to read the time and her gaze fell on a series of photographs. Most of them were of Glinda, posing either delicately, or slightly coquettish. In two of them, however, she was holding the hand of an older gentleman. One clearly was a wedding picture, which made it easy to guess who said gentleman would be. The other showed the man even older and the couple more intimate, having lost the awkwardness of a pair who had hardly courted long enough to know each other's given names. In this picture, they smiled at each other in a much more honest manner, clearly fond of each other. "I couldn't help but notice that there are no photographs of children, nor have I seen any running about," Elphaba finally said. "You're not a mother?"

Glinda laughed as if the notion were entirely absurd. "Chuffrey certainly was eager, but dry as two baked walnuts," she supplied. Elphaba stared at her blankly, unsure what to do with the excess of uncalled-for information. "But enough about my boring life," Glinda shoved the matter away briskly, "You have yet to tell me about yourself. You know, I always wondered what exactly it was you were seeking in the Emerald City."

"First, I came here to see the Wizard."

She nodded. "Well, that meeting can't have gone too well. After all, the only thing I ever heard about you again was your treatise on the Wizard's tyrannous rule and mistreatment of Animals, which made the rounds mere days before Munchkinland seceded from Oz proper. Frankly, I'm surprised they let you into the city."

Elphaba shrugged. "I'm a political refugee now. Some people may believe such circumstances would change my perspective. I'm sure you know nothing ever could." She found it necessary to throw in this hidden warning, making sure Glinda knew what she was getting herself into. "I also didn't make much fuss about my arrival here, but I'll admit that I'm rather surprised that the Wizard has not yet sent any of his lackeys to arrange another appointment and talk things over with me. Surely, he would just love to use me as a pawn in his grand campaign to regain control over Munchkinland."

"If you'd rather remain unfound, we can keep your staying here a secret." Elphaba looked up, somewhat surprised. She smiled wryly.

"That would be too dangerous, my dear. I can't run away from them. They will find me eventually and if we make it look like you're hiding me, you might find yourself in trouble, or at the very least assaulted with awkward queries." Her grin widened at its own accord. "But thank you for the offer."

Elphaba's smile turned Glinda's insides upside down. It felt so familiar, as if only now she had finally found home. She inwardly laughed at her own terrible sentimentalism. This _was_ her home. She'd been doing fine for years. Her longing for Elphaba couldn't have been that deep-rooted, could it? To distract herself, she picked the decanter up from the table between them and refilled first Elphaba's, then her own glass. "And what happened next? After that more than unsuccessful interview with the Wizard. What did you do?"

Elphaba didn't really want to talk about the matter, so she took a sip of her wine and shook her head. "My great-grandfather's men found me. End of story."

Glinda watched her carefully over the brim of her wine glass. She'd known Elphaba long enough to figure out when she wasn't being fully honest, but she let it go. Perhaps, she could worm the rest out of her at a later point in time. The realisation that there indeed would be a later point in time excited her. Chuckling to herself, she kept quiet for a moment, content just to watch Elphaba, whose eyes were once again drawn to the bookshelf. She rolled her eyes and affected a groan. "It's all right, Elphie, go ahead. Pick whatever you like. I should go back to my papers anyway."

Elphaba's green face visibly lit up in a shade that Glinda could only describe as spring green – if perhaps not quite as light, then at least as vivid and rejuvenated. The tall, lanky woman pushed herself out of her chair and Glinda did the same, walking over to the dark bureau and searching for her accounting book. She cast a look over her shoulder and noticed that Elphaba was already on her way out, a thick leather-bound book in her hand. This was not how she had planned this. "Elphie," she called out gently, "would you mind terribly much reading here? It would make me feel less lonely while I'm juggling with these tedious numbers."

"Of course." Elphaba returned to her armchair. After a minute or two, she cast Glinda a brief glance before slipping out of her shoes and resting her feet on the seat. The blonde saw it and giggled softly. To her, Elphaba looked terribly uncomfortable, but she was used to the sight. When she returned her attention to her papers, she smiled. This almost felt like they were back at Shiz, in their little room. She was doing her homework (of sorts) and Elphaba was deeply immersed in her reading. The familiarity was delightful and Glinda was looking forward to the evenings to come.

* * *

The following morning, when Glinda opened the door to the sunroom, she immediately missed the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. She took a closer look, realising that neither the small table, nor the side table were laid or bearing any kinds of food or drink. Confused, she retraced her steps, until she reached the staircase. Instead of going upstairs, back to her bedroom, she took the flight of stair she only seldom descended, as they led down to the basement, where all the staff were lodged and the kitchen and the washroom were located. It was unusually quiet and she began to worry. Miss Murth tended to sing or at least whistle while she did her morning chores and Mirrtle often hummed along. Not hearing any voices at all, Glinda feared one, or perhaps both, might be ill. Puggles usually took over cooking duty on such exceedingly rare occasions, but on Elphie's first morning in her home, she didn't wish to server her friend burnt eggs on soggy toast, accompanied by watery coffee. She heard noise coming from the kitchen and so she quickly tiptoed to the other end of the corridor to investigate.

The door was slightly ajar and she pushed it open just far enough to squeeze through. She had barely entered, when she stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide in surprise. It wasn't Miss Murth who was working on the stove and Mirrtle or Puggles also were nowhere to be seen; instead, Elphaba, her simple, navy blue frock protected by a white apron bearing the Chuffrey Crest, wielded a heavy cast iron pan in one hand and a jug of beige, creamy liquid in the other.

"Good morning?" Glinda greeted her tentatively, walking over to her to see what exactly she was doing. She sniffed the warm, sweet air and risked a look into the skillet. "Pancakes?"

"Do you still like them?" Elphaba asked, seemingly too busy to give her more than a brief side-glance.

Glinda beamed, wrapping her cosy morning wrap tighter around her petite frame. "I love them." Elphaba's lips pulled into a soft smile, which, for some reason, made Glinda far happier than any homemade treat ever could. Only a clock-tick later, she remembered the strangeness of it all. Cocking her head, she wondered aloud, "What happened to my housekeeper and my maid?"

"I told them to either take the morning off, or start with some other tasks."

Shaking her head, but still smiling, Glinda slightly patted her upper arm. "I see you've made yourself at home."

"I hadn't been able to cook for myself since I arrived in the city and I don't fancy servants doing all the dirty work for me. It's not how I was brought up. Besides, I thought you might like something different for once? Miss Murth said you never have more than a slice of toast and coffee for breakfast."

"Because I need to watch my weight," Glinda sighed and Elphaba snorted. "But I know I will enjoy your pancakes. And it's a sweet gesture. Thank you, Elphie."

Elphaba nodded and finished cooking another couple of pancakes. She stacked them on a plate and placed the plate onto a tray. There were already other smaller dishes, filled with berries, whipped cream and a little cannikin of syrup. Elphaba picked up the tray while Glinda handled the pot of coffee. They carried their breakfast upstairs and into the sunroom. Elphaba found plates and cutlery in a corner cabinet and placed everything they needed on the table. Then, they ate in content silence.

* * *

In the afternoon, Glinda convinced Elphaba to go out and have a walk with her. The weather was pleasant, just like on any other day of the last two weeks. Glinda had offered Elphaba one of her parasols to ward off the intense sun, but the green woman had merely raised a long, defined eyebrow. They strolled along the streets, chatting lightheartedly and inspecting shop windows. Elphaba couldn't bear it for long. All the pomp and splendour of the inner city almost made her gag. She remembered the sordid alleys and dilapidated buildings of the ghettos at the outskirts of this glorious town of green, where everything was grey and depressing. She wondered whether Glinda had seen them, too, but decided to temper the blonde's delight another time.

They passed a little newsstand and Elphaba stopped to scrutinise the selection. With surprise, she discovered that they were carrying one of the three big Munchkin papers. She immediately plucked a copy off the rack and paid the shopkeeper. While she perused the articles for anything noteworthy, Glinda bought a cup of hot cocoa and navigated Elphaba - still reading - to a wooden bench.

"Found something interesting?" she asked when she noticed her friend's expression change.

Elphaba worked her jaw, huffed and quickly folded the paper and stuck it under her arm. "Not much," she sighed. "These nitwits are still no closer to restoring order and rebuilding Munchkinland. If this quarreling and egotism is allowed to continue, half the country will starve before anyone gets control of the situation."

Glinda was quiet for a moment, then asked, "you're not going to go back and try to regain power, are you?"

"No," Elphaba breathed heavily, "this is no longer my war. We Thropps played our part and lately, we have messed things up masterfully."

"You mean _Nessa_ did," Glinda intervened. She didn't want Elphaba to blame herself. It seemed to her like her square, but skinny shoulders were already carrying too much weight.

"And I let it happen. I merely stood by. Anyway, now history has taken a new turn. If I were to interfere, chances are that I would simply delay the inevitable."

They continued on their way after this. Getting tired from walking in her heels, Glinda found it increasingly difficult to keep up with Elphaba's long strides. She quickened her pace to catch up to Elphaba, then, caught the green woman's elbow. Startled, Elphaba stopped and Glinda linked their arms, grinning to herself.

On their way back, Glinda pulled them along a side street off the main boulevard. It lead to the Oz Deer Park and Glinda hoped that Elphaba, after seeing nothing but emerald brick and glass and steel for most of the day, would appreciate the natural hues of the vegetation. And she did. They bought fried breads from a vendor and sat down in the grass to devour them. At first, Glinda was worried about her lemon coloured skirt, but Elphaba generously offered her scarf as a rug.

Elphaba, taking one small bite after another, was quiet and contemplative. She stared into the distance, where a row of summer-blooming trees marked the boundary of the park. This part of the city was beautiful, she had to admit, save for the obvious lack of Animal visitors. Glinda followed her gaze and wondered what she might be thinking, but quickly gave up on guessing. Instead, she used the moment of Elphaba's abstraction to scoot closer and carefully, very carefully, lean into her, her head resting on a bony shoulder.


	3. 3 An Imperfect Confession

_**AN:**_

 _Hey guys! Sorry for the wait! I'm know for my punctuality (I think lol) and now I already messed up at the third chapter xD_  
 _There are several reasons and everything just came together. First of all, this chapter gave me a bloody headache! I wrote it a while ago and was like 'Yeah, it's ok. gonna tweak it later.' Then, I started editing it for publication and was horrified at what I had done! So much work went into fixing it and I'm still not 100% sure, but whatever... 2nd major reason is that I'm not feeling particularly well right now - nothing bad, but it's dragging on my mojo. And I'm constantly tired. I pretty much sit down to write, all those ideas in my head, but after two sentences I just want to go to bed... I'll still do my best to hit the next update deadline!_

 _ **Guest:**_

 _Haha! Congrats on your personal best! And here's another one: I don't think I ever got a review this soon after publishing a chapter! So thanks a lot for that! :D_

 _So yeah, as I said, this chapter... I don't know. I hope you'll enjoy :)_

 _Happy reading!_

 _xoxo_

 _MLE :3_

* * *

 **3\. An Imperfect Confession**

Over the next couple of days, they found a rhythm they both were comfortable with, a simple, yet oddly satisfying routine. Most of the daytime was spent apart and both women went about their own businesses. They always met for meals, however, and every now and then, Glinda even cajoled Elphaba into accompanying her in a stroll through the nearby park. In the evening hours, they would retire to the music room, where Elphaba folded herself into her stuffed chair to read, while Glinda dealt with her paperwork.

Perhaps about as distracted as Elphaba was focused, Glinda took far longer than before to draft her letters and peruse the documents. Keeping her eyes on the paper in front of here was challenging when her oblivious, green housemate was sitting mere inches away from her. The closeness, Elphaba's unawareness and finally, the familiarity of it all were killing her. She hadn't realised how much she had been craving Elphaba's company until they had so innocently, accidentally crossed paths at the hotel and she certainly hadn't known how badly she needed more than just her company until she had first greeted Elphaba in her own drawing room. It was Shiz all over again and her house was like a larger, more generous version of their old dorm room. And Glinda was truly thankful for the luxury of separated bedrooms, for sometimes, being around Elphaba still proved a little too much for her.

Elphaba might have been ignorant of Glinda's hidden longings, but she certainly took notice of her fitful behaviour. There were moments of calm, when the two women would sit together, either conversing leisurely, or in silent company. But far too often, Glinda was clearly uncomfortable around her, avoiding eye contact and speaking in an unnatural pitch that was painful to Elphaba's ears. Only why then, Elphaba found herself wondering then, was it _Glinda_ who evidently couldn't keep her distance? It was truly mindboggling.

That being said, Elphaba appreciated Glinda's company, more so than she dared to admit to her ever-questioning self. She had grown strangely accustomed to spending her evenings together with her friend in the music room, rather than in the solitude of her own room. It gave her a sense of security and she realised that she wanted to simply belong. Yet she berated herself for such foolish fantasies and reminded herself of how quickly and easily Glinda cold divest herself of her inconvenient guest.

Her brain, the most sensible part of her, she knew, argued that this was nothing more but a strategy to cope with her recent losses. No matter their differences, the constant nagging, the pointless conflicts, she had loved her family. Nanny, her father, little Shell and above all, precious Nessa. But this wasn't Colwen Grounds and Glinda was no replacement for her sister, which meant that her new desire to please her, to protect her, to hold her, was irrational and nonsensical and should not be heeded.

These were the mantras that guided her throughout the day, but at night, when sleep wouldn't take her, a small voice whispered that her head had it all wrong.

* * *

They were sitting at the breakfast table, mostly finished with eating, but too comfortable to rise and go about their separate affairs just yet. Glinda asked Elphaba about the book she had been reading recently, glad to hear that she enjoyed it, as she herself had chosen it. It had been just another small element of her grand ' _Make Elphie Feel at Home Plan,'_ although she would never admit as much to her. She was about to elicit some details – just to please her – when the doorbell rang. Groaning quietly and rolling her eyes, Glinda leaned back in her chair, listening for any voices. Puggles entered the room soon thereafter and handed a card to his mistress. "Lady Dewflower is calling, Mum," he informed her and she nodded.

"Elphie," she said as she stood, "are you still good for our little shopping spree this afternoon?"

Elphaba made a face, wrinkling her impressive nose. "As long as you don't go back on your offer to take me to the bookshop at some point."

"I wouldn't dream of it, silly," Glinda chirped and briefly touched Elphaba's hand before waltzing through the door on her way to the drawing room.

Only because Glinda began to feel a bit like the young girl from Shiz again, this didn't mean that her Emerald City social life had simply evaporated – as much as she sometimes wished that it would do just that. Her friends continued calling every other day. At one point, Bonna even had had the guts to complain about Glinda's recent absence from their little events and get-togethers and Glinda felt compelled to promise to attend their next tea party. And then there were also some male callers, gentlemen who, so she guessed, were eager to woo a wealthy, young widow to further themselves and their bank accounts. Glinda indulged them with patience, but knew she would never accept any of their offers. Because all these receptions were inherently boring, she never expected Elphaba to attend. Once, she'd told Mirrtle to show the green woman to the library, in spite of knowing that she would regret this move soon enough.

Watching Glinda leave, Elphaba sipped the last of her coffee. She stacked the dishes on the table and collected the cutlery. It wasn't much, but it made her feel like she was at least making an effort to make herself useful. When she looked up, she noticed Mirrtle, who was standing in the door, her hands desperately gripping the silver tray she had brought along. Elphaba paused and waited for the serving girl to come over and collect the remainders of their breakfast. The young woman, however, didn't move. She sighed, shaking her head and left the room. As she passed her, Mirrtle shrunk back against the wall and sucked in a sharp breath. Elphaba briefly looked back, tempted to make a snide remark, but only bit her tongue and made her way upstairs to her bedroom.

* * *

At dinner, Glinda watched Elphaba closely, trying to gauge her mood. Unsure of herself, she waited until Miss Murth had served the pudding before breaking the news. "Elphie, I'll have lunch at the _Florinthwaite Club_ with one of Chuff's old business partners tomorrow." Elphaba looked up, nodded and returned her attention to her plate. "What I meant, was that I would like for you to come along," Glinda clarified, quickly dipping her spoon into the sweet treat in front of her as an excuse to avert her eyes. Elphaba's spoon was noisily placed onto the table. When Glinda's gaze went up, the green woman sat stiff and square, her forehead furrowed in a deep frown. To Glinda, she looked like a sulking child.

"Oh, I know you don't fancy these formal occasions or consorting with these toffs," Glinda huffed irately. "At times, neither do I. But the rumour mill here in the city is exhaustively efficient, you must know, and by now, everyone is bound to have heard of you. If I don't bring my mysterious guest to such a meeting, they will say I'm hiding you, which will only inspire their imagination. In the end, they will think I'm harbouring a fugitive rather than a refugee!"

Scoffing, Elphaba pushed her chair back from the table, ready to flee. "I do go out with you. We've been seen and probably talked about by hundreds of people."

"Believe me, Elphie, it's not the same," Glinda replied, murdering her crème de rosé with thousand little stabs of her spoon. "I need to slowly introduce you to my social circle. They feel entitled to meet you in person."

"That would be a first," Elphaba tossed out.

"You're an important political figure," Glinda countered.

"If I have ever been of any political interest, this certainly is no longer the case. Besides, your friends are calling more often than the postman. Surely, you could have introduced me two weeks ago if it were absolutely necessary."

Sweet Lurline, why did this woman have to be so infuriatingly stubborn and logical? Glinda was losing the battle and she knew it. With a heavy sigh, she decided to surrender the real reason behind her request. "Listen, Elphie, you won't like this very much, which is why I tried not to tell you." Another deep breath. "Clearly, I am not the person who is chiefly responsible for Chuff's business, or I would be spending thirty hours a day locked away in a stuffy office." She laughed artificially about her own joke like a complete amateur. Oh, how that green thing's stare affected her. Elphaba was so intense she could disarm an army officer. Well, perhaps she could use this unusual skill to her advantage.

"Anyway," she continued, clearing her voice, "There is this one particular client, who insists on meeting with me instead of our chairman, despite my insignificant role in this game. He and his family are important investors, so we indulge him." Elphaba crossed her arms, but nodded, which Glinda took as a good sign. Yet unfortunately, she had yet to come to the meat of the matter. "Now the issue is –" and she blushed a little when she said this "- that he seems to expect a little more each time we see each other. It is not at all appropriate, but as he is so important for the business, I try to be, well… _nice_ to him." She bit her lip and bashfully looked at Elphaba thorugh her thick lashes. "I would feel more at ease if you could accompany me… to make sure he knows how to behave himself."

Elphaba didn't quite know what to say. The very idea of business affiliations based on concupiscence disturbed her and to think that Glinda was involved repulsed and offended her at the same time. The image of some nondescript stranger laying his rough hands on the perfectly soft, pale skin disturbed her and stirred a strange feeling deep in her gut. She scowled and worked her jaw. She didn't approve, but she had no choice. " _Florinthwaite Club_?" she finally replied dourly. "Does that mean that you will pick my wardrobe?"

* * *

Already standing in front of the excessive, green marble building with the twenty-five-foot columns, Elphaba felt out of place. Glinda next to her seemed even more anxious, which truly concerned her. She couldn't decide whether she should be disappointed by the blonde's foolishness, or impressed by her courage. She certainly was a fool if she sold herself for the money, but somehow Elphaba doubted that her motives were this simple. Perhaps she herself saw this as an act of martyrdom, and the preservation of her late husband's legacy as her moral obligation. Maybe it was just that, or maybe it was merely another foolery. Elphaba wouldn't know. She had asked herself the same question for years after she had surrendered the eminency and pledged her loyalty to Nessarose.

"Shall we then?" Glinda asked, interrupting Elphaba's contemplations. She looped her arm through Elphaba's, which she squeezed with her other hand for moral support. With a stern nod and a tense smile, she moved forward.

Glinda – or rather _Lady Chuffrey_ \- was well known among the staff. Every doorman, servant, janitor or manager greeted her by name and with a bow. A fairly undersized man in a green suit took the ladies' parasols and coats and led them to the private room Glinda's business partner had booked. The man knocked and opened the door. "Commander Cherrystone," he said with a nod, "your guests have arrived."

Green Suit stepped aside and Glinda floated past him, entering the small room. Elphaba mulled over the name she had just heard. If that man was some kind of military officer, he undoubtedly must be a member of the Wizard's army, she realised, her eyes narrowing. She understood that Glinda took no sides and was only looking to preserve her current standard of living and her husband's bequest, but she couldn't help but feel a little peeved that she had dragged her into this, for she would hate hardly anything more then to feign friendship with the Galeforce.

"Lady Glinda," the Commander greeted the blonde cheerfully. First, he only bent over to gallantly kiss her hand, but then, he wrapped his strong arm around her tiny waist and leaned in and placed a brief kiss on her cheek.

Glinda laughed coyly. "Traper, what an ardent welcome. Do you plan to make me swoon?"

The distress hidden in Glinda's playful interaction with the Commander caught Elphaba's attention. She looked up, finding Glinda still wrapped in the boldly grinning man's arm, averting her gaze. Elphaba's nostrils flared as she exhaled sharply. She stepped into the room, placing herself right in Cherrystone's field of vision. The twinkle in the Commander's eyes vanished. "Oh, you didn't tell me you were bringing a friend along."

"My apologies," Glinda smiled and carefully detached herself from him to quickly cross the room and take Elphaba's hand. "This is my dear friend Elphaba Thropp. She only decided this morning that the she would like to join us so she could meet you.

"Thropp?" The Commander weighed her name on his tongue. Wordlessly, Elphaba stared back at him. She wasn't going to jog his memory.

"Of the Munchkinland Thropps," Glinda finally explained in her stead. "Surely you must know of them? She is the sister of the last Eminent Thropp of Nest Hardings."

The expression in the man's eyes changed from clueless to guarded. "Yes, of course," he slowly nodded after a moment, still thinking. He studied her anew, from head to toe, before forcing his stern face into a false smile. "I did not mean to offend," he offered, stepping closer as if waiting for her to extend her hand. "I simply wasn't aware that any of the Thropp family survived the coup. Well, good to see you alive and well, my Lady and please accept my condolences." The words were spoken so insincerely, that Elphaba didn't even feel the need to affect appreciation. Glinda smiled apologetically on her behalf.

They took their seats at the round table, waiting for the first course of their meal to arrive. Glinda sat opposite Cherrystone, which she hoped was a good distance; Elphaba sat in between. The Commander seemed none too happy about the arrangement, but chose to say nothing. "How is your father, Traper?" Glinda began conversationally, "Is his gout still causing him trouble? I hear he retired from active service to take the waters by the seaside?"

They were interrupted by a knock on the door and the small man in the green suit entered, followed by a serving girl balancing heavily loaded trays on her hands. A clock-tick later, a young boy wheeled in a cart with a large soup tureen. Elphaba eyed the soup and sniffed at the pieces of chicken she discovered. Still, she forced herself to eat at least some of it, already guessing that she would not be able to stomach any of the upcoming courses, except for desert, perhaps.

"Your friend doesn't eat much," Cherrystone noted later, after Elphaba had left three plates untouched. Unimpressed, Elphaba continued to glare at the muttonhead, which was now the centerpiece on the table.

"She is a vegetarian," Glinda supplied patiently. "Poor thing, I'll have to take her out for tea and sweet later, lest she waste away under my watch." Commander Cherrystone scoffed at that, but offered to invite the ladies to a café after lunch. Glinda, having noticed her faux pas, tried her best to fend off his offer.

Dessert proved edible for Elphaba. She took a second helping of the fruit compote and even helped Glinda finish her cake. Once the club staff had removed all plates and cutlery and had replaced them with cups of hot, steaming tea, Cherrystone took his cup and moved seats. Now sitting next to Glinda, he allowed his thin lips to pull into a wide grin. She tilted her head to look at him, wondering what he might be up to. "I must confess, I miss your fanciful style of dress, dear Glinda," he rasped, his voice gravelly from too much wine. "These dark outfits are elegant, for sure, but they seem to wash out the happiness from your beautiful face."

He edged closer with every word and Glinda struggled to distance herself without appearing too rejecting. "I am a widow in mourning, Traper," she reminded him. "It would be not at all appropriate to prance around, looking like some exotic bird."

"It's such a silly convention, isn't it? I'm sure old Chuff wouldn't want you to be sullen over his parting."

"Please," she begged, daring to move just another inch, "we ought to discuss business, not the sense and nonsense of societal prescriptions." She made eye contact with Elphaba, who was watching them closely, ready to jump over the table if she had to.

"But you didn't even love him," Cherrystone plowed on, covering her left hand, still displaying her golden wedding band, with his.

Glinda's head spun around and she cast him a horrified look, which made Elphaba jolt to her feet. "Stop embarrassing yourself, Commander, you are clearly intoxicated."

"Just a little," he drawled. "But _he_ was drunk that night – drunk like a hog!" Elphaba paused, puzzled, but Glinda immediately realised who the Commander was talking about. "And heartbroken," he continued before she could ask him to stop. "The man cried his bloody soul out and all because his beloved wife did not return his affection with equal fervour. I listened to him and I looked at him, that poor, _old_ man. And I hoped that sooner or later my day would come."

For a few heartbeats, Glinda was paralysed by disbelief and bewilderment. She didn't realise when her body began to shake, but Elphaba, who had finally put all the pieces of information together, snapped out of her stupor and reached for her hand. "Glinda?" she spoke softly, unsure how her friend planned to proceed.

Glinda looked up and caught Elphaba's gaze. Her eyes looked sad or guilty; Elphaba didn't know this side of her well enough to tell for sure. "We thank you for your invitation, Commander," she finally said, her voice firmer than Elphaba or even she herself had expected. "But I am afraid my friend and I are slightly tired from the sheer excess of food and wine. Perhaps, we could defer business matters to another day."

She pushed back her chair and stood. Commander Cherrystone appeared somewhat dumbfounded, but she was past the point of truly caring. "Come, Elphie," she said quietly and linked their arms when Elphaba stepped up to her. "Have a good day, Captain," she said as she turned. Elphaba couldn't find it within herself to say anything at all.

"That went well," Elphaba remarked dryly, as soon as their cab took off. The Florinthwaite Club was barely ten minutes walk away from Mennipin square, but it was obvious that Glinda was in no condition to walk even that far. The dainty, young woman heaved a deep sigh and collapsed against her friend, her blonde head resting heavily on her shoulder.

* * *

By the time they retired to the music room, Glinda's mood still seemed marred and Elphaba didn't know how to help. She picked a book from the shelf as she did every evening, while Glinda sat down at her bureau to do her work. Concentrating on the words before her, however, proved strangely difficult, as her thoughts, time and time again, returned to their unfortunate lunch appointment and to Glinda's odd mood. She let her eyes wander across the room, until they found the piano. Maybe this would be a good time to try if it was still in tune.

Putting her book aside, she got out of her comfortable chair and sat down on the small, wooden piano bench. She lifted the lid carefully and tested a few keys. It didn't sound too bad. She racked her brain for something cheerful, but came up empty. The best she could do was a piece that wasn't outright depressing. She tapped her right foot to the rhythm while mentally going through the music, hoping she remembered everything correctly. Then, she began to play.

Glinda looked up from the letter she had so far failed to compose. Still slightly dazed, she looked in the direction of Elphaba's chair, which she found abandoned along with the book. Only at a second thought, she had the sense to search for her at the piano. She hadn't known that Elphaba knew how to play, and so beautifully as well. The music enveloped her like a warm blanket. It wasn't uplifting, but comforting, touching her heart somehow. It made her wonder whether Elphaba realised what it was doing to her.

She sat still, listening for quite a while and waiting for the piece to finish so that she could applaud and thank Elphaba for her performance. But the green woman kept playing, interweaving several pieces into one seamless stream of ever-changing melodies. Although she thoroughly enjoyed the music, Glinda began to yearn for Elphaba's company instead. She abandoned her chair and crossed the room, lightly letting her hand glide over Elphaba's back as she passed the piano on her way to the settee. Even in this fleeting touch, she felt the tension of her muscles, the deep concentration. She sat down and continued to watch and it became clear that Elphaba wouldn't stop any time soon, too absorbed in her own world. She carefully cleared her voice. "Elphaba?"

Elphaba's head snapped up. She was still playing, but her neck craned to find the voice that had called her name. She discovered Glinda, sitting on a couch. She was smiling softly at her, and beckoned her to join her. Elphaba distractedly allowed her fingers to finish a few more notes and created a gentle ending for the music, before she did as Glinda had asked.

"You only told me that you sing sometimes."

"Back at Shiz that was still true." Glinda's eyes widened. "My great-grandfather taught me how to play the piano while I lived at Colwen Grounds."

"You learnt to play like this in eight years?" Glinda asked, stunned.

"Four. I never played after he passed away. It has never been my passion. I only did it to please him."

Shaking her head, Glinda almost laughed. "What made you play now then?"

"You don't feel right to me. You're sad or… I don't even know. You're never like this." Elphaba's intense gaze found Glinda's. The blonde held it for a while, then looked away, picking on invisible threads on her dress.

"Elphie, what Cherrystone said today…"

"Was rude."

She smiled. "Yes, it was. But he was true. I never actually loved Chuffrey and although you might think this normal in our circles of society, he suffered greatly because of it. He was too much in love with me to overcome the fact that I didn't feel the same."

Elphaba wondered why Glinda was sharing this with her and so did Glinda. Elphaba came to the conclusion that it might be cathartic for her to speak about her pain, while Glinda realised that, above all else, she wanted to tell Elphaba because she _needed_ her to know. That her love had never belonged to anyone. Anyone but her.

She took a shuddering breath and reached for a green hand. A small wave of relieve washed over her when Elphaba returned her grasp firmly, as though she tried to communicate to her that she got her, that she would not let her fall. Just like that one time at Shiz, after Ama Clutch's funeral, when she had nearly fainted. Although she was now fuzzy on the details, she still remembered Elphaba's arms around her, her gruff, but concerned voice and the pleading look in her dark brown eyes. Exhausted from the excess of emotions, she leaned against Elphaba again, like she had done in the carriage, glad that Elphaba didn't seem to think it odd, or feel the need back away. Her free hand found her opposite shoulder, then briefly moved up to her cheek to tilt her head just enough so she could place a sweet, harmless kiss on her cheek. Elphaba was startled and twitched just enough for Glinda to notice, but let it happen. Glinda's hand fell back onto her shoulder as she snuggled closer and rested her head against Elphaba's soft chest rather than her bony shoulder.

Touching Elphaba had quickly become like a drug to Glinda. The more often she dared to brush her hand against the soft emerald skin, or even just the course fabric of Elphaba's dresses, the more she craved the contact. She knew that, at this rate, she wouldn't be able to keep it this light for long. She had to decide whether she should pull back completely, or close her eyes and take the scary leap.


	4. 4 Hasty Conslusions

_**AN:**_

 _OMG, so late again! Sorry, guys, but it's difficult right now... Anyway, it's late, so I'll make this quick._

 _~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~_

 _ **Guest:** I hope that your finals went well! Thanks for reading and reviewing! :D_

 _~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~_

 _And now, happy reading everyone!_

 _xoxo MLE :3_

* * *

 **4\. Hasty Conclusions**

Elphaba was troubled. For three full days now, Glinda had been avoiding her. She always had a plausible excuse, of course, but Elphaba was convinced that her absence at dinner and various other daily appointments was deliberate. When, or how she had acquired such a keen sense of interpersonal perception was a mystery to her. Perhaps, Glinda's social shrewdness was slowly rubbing off on her. She wouldn't have thought it possible.

The clock in the hallway proclaimed that it was eight o'clock. Elphaba had dined alone again, but out of habit, she moved from the dinner table to the music room and picked a book from the shelf. Settling in her usual seat, she flipped open the cover and began to read. The title had been promising enough, but the content was simply not succeeding in retaining her attention for longer than a few minutes. Before long, she caught herself staring in the direction of the door, as though she were waiting for Glinda to open it any moment. She jerked up in her seat and pinched the bridge of her nose, clearing her head so she could return her mind to the book that had now dropped to the floor.

She picked it up and continued reading, but no matter how hard she strained her eyes, the letters on the page remained blurred, shifting in and out of focus. With a great huff, she put an end to their mockery. She snapped the volume shut and placed it back on the shelf, wondering whether she should blame the book, or herself for her irritated mood. Turning sharp on her heels, she headed for the door. Before the evening could get any more frustrating, she rather went to bed. She had barely reached the staircase, however, when her erratic mind changed her plan – although it had been a solid one - yet again.

* * *

After returning from her aimless stroll through the inner city, Glinda had spent the rest of her day in her private rooms. Miss Murth had reminded her about dinner at some point, but she wasn't hungry. Or maybe she was, but she couldn't afford going downstairs and spending the rest of the evening with Elphaba. She had been trying to avoid her as best she could over the past three days, hoping to calm her heart's unreasonable desires, as well as her eager fingers' longing to touch and explore Elphaba's mesmerizing, emerald skin. To her great frustration, none of these inconvenient feelings and urges had shown any signs of dissipating so far. Her stomach spoke up with a loud gurgling rumble. With a sigh, she heaved herself out of her chair and left her room in search of something edible.

Her way to the kitchen led her past the music room. The door was closed, but the strong, full sound of the grand piano still carried through. It made Glinda pause in her tracks and turn around slowly. Closing her eyes and clenching her fists, she tried to ignore the pull, but it was to no avail. She was as much drawn to the melody as she was drawn to the person she knew was on the other side of the door. It was too much to resist. Already, her hand was resting on the handle. She berated herself, if not for her foolheartedness, then for her lack of will. But she proceeded pushing down the handle all the same, opening the door just far enough so she could slip through the narrow gap. Her heartbeat quickened as she approached the piano and the pianist, who was weaving the beautiful music.

She sat down next to her, listening in captivated silence. She wondered whether Elphaba had even noticed her, or whether she was simply too immersed in her own world. Barely had she finished this thought, the music stopped, answering her unvoiced question. Elphaba's eyes remained trained on her hands for a moment, her long fingers still spread out over the ivory keys.

"I thought you don't particularly enjoy the piano?" Glinda asked quietly. "Yet you were the only person in the room. If not for someone else's pleasure, why did you play?"

Elphaba shrugged her shoulders, not entirely sure that she knew the answer herself. "To lure you out of your hideout," she told Glinda offhandedly and maybe it was even true. Glinda laughed at that, but Elphaba's mouth only formed a thin line. "But seriously, where have you been all day?"

Glinda's smile briefly turned into a frown, then into a smirk. "So you missed me?" She tried to sound playful, but the corners of her mouth were twitching nervously.

Elphaba turned to study her for a moment before averting her eyes. "I never intended to drive you away from your own home, or confine you in your bedroom. If my presence here is inconveniencing you-"

She was interrupted by Glinda's warm hand on her cheek and her soft lips on her mouth. Her breath caught, as she was too shocked to move a single muscle. Even her heart must have stopped. Maybe, it was the lack of oxygen that caused her dizziness and that strange feeling of floating lightness and intense gravity combined. Maybe, it was all in her head. Or her heart, if she wanted to be this sentimental.

There was not much time to think on it though. The contact was lost mere seconds later and her body resumed its various functions, if only to save itself from certain death. Her limbs were still defying her, however, as was her speech. All she could do was to turn her head away and try to hide her face behind a silky curtain of raven hair.

Glinda slowly withdrew, shyly looking up at her through her lashes. Had Elphaba not stared away so intently, she would have seen the pretty, pink blush on Glinda's cheeks and the way her teeth caught her lower lip nervously while she studied Elphaba's reaction. Where others might have flushed from the intense physical contact, Elphaba had paled - a most concerning sign in Glinda's eyes.

"Did this startle you?" she gently asked after collecting herself. "By no means did I mean to make you uncomfortable. Sometimes, I just forget that you are not familiar with the ways of us city girls." A light titter accompanied her words and in her current confused state, Elphaba did not catch its awkwardness. "Think nothing of it. It was only a little thank you," Glinda moved on to explain. "For the music and… and for staying with me, for keeping me company."

She brushed the strands of black hair away and brought both of her hands up to Elphaba's cheeks and fixed her head so she could give her this penetrating, inadvertently intimidating look. "You are most certainly not unwelcome here," she declared solemnly, moving closer again, until the tips of their noses nearly touched. "Nor are you ousting me from my home. I apologise for being such a negligent host as of late and I promise I will mend my ways." With that, she released the green woman, giving her a determined nod. Elphaba accepted her apology mutely and Glinda offered her a wide smile. Elphaba didn't notice how forced it looked.

Before the matter could be discussed any further, Glinda's stomach made itself heard again, causing her to flush in embarrassment. "Well, it looks like it is time I found myself something to eat. I was going to raid the kitchen for leftovers, but if you were to join me, I could ring for Mirrtle to bring up a tray of nosh for two."

Carefully closing the lid of the piano, Elphaba shook her head. "It's late and I already had dinner. I think I should go to bed." She turned towards Glinda, offered her a hand and pulled her to her feet. At the stairs, where Glinda's way would lead her to the downstairs kitchen and Elphaba's to her upstairs guestroom, she turned to study her, tilting her head. "I'll see you at breakfast then?"

"Definitely," Glinda replied with a small grin, which Elphaba returned with the flicker of a smile.

Halfway up her flight of stairs, Elphaba paused. She made sure that Glinda had already disappeared, then hesitantly brushed the tips of her fingers against her lips, still in utter disbelief. She had never dared, or even wanted to imagine her first kiss. She had neither hoped, nor longed for it. Ultimately, a simple kiss was no more than two people pressing their mouths together. From a strictly technical point of view, she still thought that way, although she could not deny the strange sense of a deeply emotional connection she had felt when Glinda's lips had connected with hers. A hint of that feeling still lingered, echoing throughout her body like a soft hum. _'What did this mean?'_ she might have wondered, but she didn't, for this little realisation was not a new riddle; it was the answer to so many questions that had plagued her for far too long.

Yet solving the grand mystery turned out to be terribly unrewarding. Most of all, she was disappointed. Disappointed, because she wished the kiss had meant more to Glinda. Disappointed, because she wished that _she_ meant more to Glinda. She was hesitant to give this desire to be close to her friend a specific name, but she could not deny its existence. Previously, she might have thought herself immune to such superfluous emotions, but that clearly wasn't the case. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, she realised – after all, it made her more human, more relatable. Although she used to not care about such properties, she now cared for Glinda's sake. But how unfortunate and, perhaps, ironic, that her newly revealed humanness had to be directed at such an unobtainable prize.

Releasing a deep breath, she suddenly felt worn out, like she would after a daylong march. Were all romantic feelings this tiresome, or was this only the case with those that were so horribly misguided? At any rate, she decided that she better not spent the rest of the night on the stairs and dragged herself up to her room.

* * *

In keeping with her promise, Glinda was the first to appear at the breakfast table the following morning, followed by Elphaba a couple of minutes later. It was a quiet affair as both women picked on their food in silence. Glinda's stomach, although empty after only receiving a handful of water crackers the previous night, was too upset to take much of the toast and could hardly handle the coffee. The blonde blamed herself for acting so impetuously, for letting self-control slip so easily. Now she had made things awkward between her and Elphaba, who, judging by her sullen mood, was clearly not buying into the silly excuse she had given.

When Mirrtle and Miss Murth entered to clear the table, Elphaba declared that she intended to take the air. Surprised, Glinda jumped to her feet. "I will go with you if you can wait just an hour or so. I have an early appointment this morning."

Elphaba ran her hand through her hair. "Don't worry about me. I won't get lost. You do whatever you have to do and I'll see you at lunch."

And thus, their roles somehow had ended up reversed, much to Glinda's regret.

* * *

"It's your turn."

Glinda glanced over the cards in her hand for a third time, worrying her lip. But it was no use. Gritting her teeth, she pulled out a card. Elphaba arched her eyebrow and countered her move with a much better one – a winning one. "This is the sixth time in a row that you win this ridiculous game!" Glinda cried out in pure frustration.

"What can I say, I'm good." Elphaba merely shrugged her shoulders.

Glinda stood so she could reach across the table and gather the cards to return them to their leather case. "There will be no more Graboge, _Miss_ Elphaba. We will find another game to amuse ourselves with. One where I might stand a chance."

Elphaba gave it a brief thought. "Do you have a Green Towers-set?"

"Do we have a Green Towers-set, Miss Murth?" Glinda turned to ask her housekeeper.

"Oh, yes, we do," the woman replied, nodding eagerly. "Would you like me to fetch it?"

"No, please don't bother," Elphaba quickly called out to save Miss Murth, who was already halfway out of the room, the trip down to the cellar. "I asked about it because it is a game we can easily cross off the list. In my family I'm the undefeated champion, so to say. Glinda wouldn't enjoy losing yet again."

Oh, that cheeky grin! Glinda stemmed her hands on her hips. "Fine. I accept the challenge. Miss Murth, if you please?"

Miss Murth nearly collided with Puggles when the butler came rushing through the door. "There is a visitor for you, Mum. She is waiting in the drawing room."

"You already brought her inside?" Glinda snapped, crossing the room with quick steps to snatch the calling card from Puggles. "You know fairly well that I don't receive unannounced visitors after dinner."

"Of course, Mum, but I supposed you will make an exception in this case."

Huffing, she grabbed the card. She froze. "Mumsy? What in Oz?"

Elphaba noisily pushed back her chair and moved to the door. "I'll go out for an hour or two," she said quietly in passing Glinda.

"Elphie, it is nine o'clock!" the blonde called after her, but with a flurry of green fingers, Elphaba disappeared down the hallway. The door shut noisily soon thereafter. A tired groan escaped Glinda's lips. She nodded at Puggles to dismiss him and instructed Miss Murth to forget about the game set and prepare sandwiches and tea instead. With a dreadful feeling of trepidation in her stomach, she headed in the direction of the drawing room.

Opening the door, she found her mother in one of the stuffed chairs by the fireplace. She entered quietly, closing the door behind her. "What are you doing here, Mumsy?" she asked in a low voice, her eyes trained to the ground.

Mrs Upland rose to her feet, walked up to her daughter and gently, but firmly guided her chin up so she would look at her. "Not quite the welcome I had expected," she replied, her mouth pursed in a tut. Glinda twisted herself free. She stepped behind one of the armchairs to assure some distance between her and her mother.

"You couldn't at least write a note ahead of time? We are ill prepared for your visit. After all, I _am_ already entertaining another guest - a dear, old friend from school, you must know - and the extra pieces and linen for the second guest room are almost all still at Mockbeggar Hall. We never needed them before."

The older woman shook her head. "Do not fret, Glinda Darling. I already settled into my room at the Florinthwaite Club. Now come and sit with your mother."

Miss Murth entered with the refreshments and Glinda slowly took her seat. "Thank you, Miss Murth, that will be all. You may clean and retire for the night." Taking a deep breath, she decided to start over with her mother. Turning to Mrs Upland, she asked, "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Mumsy?"

"The occasion is not at all pleasant, I'm afraid," Mrs Upland sighed and folded her hands in her lap. She remained silent for a few clock-ticks, studying the lights of the lanterns outside the window.

"Mumsy?" Glinda could hardly bear the tension.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," her mother said at last, lowering her gaze as a tear slowly ran down her cheek, "I'm afraid your father has left this world." Glinda's eyes widened, glossing over with tears of her own. "He left us behind to be with Lurlina, but at least he won't hurt anymore."

Feeling the first of her tears fall, Glinda rose form her seat, turning towards the fireplace in order to conceal her grief from her mother. She was too angry to share such private emotions with her. "And you left him behind like this just to tell me?" she asked in a vexingly wavering voice. "Or were you fleeing the onslaught of relatives that wish to express their condolences and mourn with you?" She snorted in an unusually unfeminine and unbecoming manner. "It must have taken weeks for you to travel all the way from Frottica. A letter would have arrived in half of the time. When _did_ he actually die?"

"Almost two months ago," came the soft reply and Glinda's dainty hands formed into tight fists. "I thought it would be inappropriate for you to come to his funeral. A recent widow shouldn't travel this far all by herself. That's why I didn't inform you right away."

Her hands began to shake. Why was her mother doing this to her? The death of her father was a hard blow; why did she have to add such cruel insult to the injury? "You should not have made such a decision for me. I am old enough-"

"But look at you, child! It has barely been half a year and you're already divesting yourself of your widow's weeds?" Glinda looked down on her outfit, an indigo blue tea dress that flaunted both too much skin and ruffles to be fully appropriate mourning attire. "I can only imagine what the people would say if they saw you touring the country in such costumes."

"Would you rather I lapsed into depression?" she defended her wardrobe – perhaps a little too aggressively, for she did feel some guilt over how little Chuffrey's death had affected her. "This is _my_ house, mother, what I choose to wear is my own business."

"But think of your staff, not to mention that _friend_ of yours you are entertaining." Mrs Upland paused, tilting her head in thought. "It couldn't possibly be that Tenmeadows boy, could it?"

Glinda whirled around, her mouth agape in unrestrained shock. "Mother!"

"Well, I suppose not," Mrs Upland allowed, reaching for her tea cup to take a sip. "Although he would be a good match."

"I see you haven't heard, but the Margreave of Tenmeadows has already found himself a Margreavess," Glinda informed her pointedly.

"A pity."

"Yes," Glinda scoffed, "for the poor woman who now has to put up with this man."

Her mother mercifully refrained from commenting any further and decided on a sandwich instead. Glinda watched her for a while longer until her anger had cooled enough for her to resume her seat. She picked up her cup of tea and began to stir it slowly, but incessantly, her gaze lingering on the crackling fire. "Do you remember how you and Popsicle told me to marry a rich man?" Her hand was still drawing circles with the small silver spoon. "I took your advice and became Chuffrey's wife. To make you proud and to make sure you were looked after financially. This marriage ended sooner than any of us could have predicted, but… Would you disapprove if I never took another husband? I don't wish to marry again." She finally placed the spoon on the saucer and returned the cup to the side table without taking but a sip.

Her mother made a concerned face. "Did he not treat you well, my sweet girl?"

Glinda shook her head slightly. "No, it's nothing like that. He was always kind, even if not particularly understanding. But that was to be expected, due to the age difference."

"Is this about your… well, your…" Mrs Upland was searching for words, describing a series of small circles with her left hand."… about your peculiar tendencies then?"

Inadvertently, Glinda's cheeks began to blush. Bashfully, she looked up, then away again, biting her lower lip. "You do remember Elphie, don't you? She was my roomie at Shiz."

"Of course," Mrs Upland replied and her lips turned into a thin, straight line.

"She… she's presently living here with me." There was silence for a good while and Glinda hesitantly looked up, only to seen an expression of horror painting her mother's features.

"No, Mumsy, it's not what you think!" She hurried to clarify. "It's not that at all. She is from Munchkinland, you see, and a political refugee. She has nowhere else to go. I offered her a guest room and some food. That is all."

"Has she tried to seduce you?" Mrs Upland asked curtly – a question at which Glinda stared at her as though she had grown another head.

"Mumsy!" The redness of her face deepened. "No, no and _no!_ " She blinked a tear away without even knowing why she had shed it in the first place. "Actually," she began before she could stop herself, "quite the contrary is the case." Her hand flew to her mouth, but she realised that she had already said too much to still be able to stir the conversation in a somewhat safer direction.

"I…" She swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat did not seem willing to budge. In an embarrassingly croaky voice, she continued. "There were moments over the past few weeks when I would have liked to get closer to her," she confessed. "Physically, I mean; in a way that would exceed intimacy as it is appropriate amongst friends. But she… she seems absolutely oblivious. It is driving me insane. I don't know what to do with myself."

Mrs Upland picked up her teacup again and eyed the brown liquid it contained with disdain. Watching her, Glinda thought that she must be wishing for something stronger. There was brandy in the corner cabinet by the door, but she knew all too well what alcohol could do to her mother when she was in such a delicate state. The older woman finally gave up on the tea with a sigh. "Well, perhaps, she isn't interested and for propriety's sake and in order to shelter you from the embarrassment, she simply overlooks your unsuitable behaviour. Or, perhaps, she merely endures it because she doesn't want to end up on the street."

"No, my Elphie wouldn't do that," Glinda countered passionately and her mother squirmed a little in her seat. "You see, she is the most outspoken and honest person I know. She is blunt and without deceit. She would either encourage my overtures, or simply tell me to leave her be. It's the fact that she has done neither so far that worries me."

"It is easy then; if she is such a frank person, I think that it is time that you should be equally frank with her."

For that, Glinda had no reply. She was scanalised at first, but the more she thought on the matter, the more sensible her mother's advice appeared to her. Of course, this plan could go terribly wrong, but how much heartache it would spare her if it didn't!

* * *

When Elphaba turned around the corner from Shiz Street onto Mennipin Square, her head wrapped in a black scarf and her hands stuffed in the deep pockets of her coat to conceal as much green as possible, she was surprised how welcome the sight of tidy front lawns and gloss painted green doors was to her. Her little excursion to the outer edges of the city had been about as successful as it had been frustrating. She hated to admit it, but with all the chaos she had left behind in Munchkinland and so much misery still lurking at the very doorsteps of her temporary home, she appreciated the luxury of returning to a place she considered a safe haven of sorts – although she would have been happy to make do with a much humbler accommodation. She wasn't mollycoddling herself, she reassured herself firmly. Gradually, she would intensify her efforts, but if she hoped to make a difference, it couldn't hurt if she was well fed and rested. For the time being at least, until the situation became more heated and Glinda's involvement, however peripheral, was something she could no longer risk.

She found the servant door at the back of the building and knocked until the serving girl, already half asleep and with disheveled bed hair, finally answered. She straightened up at once when she recognised Elphaba – whether it was out of fright or sense of duty was difficult to say. Wordlessly, she widened the gap enough so that Elphaba could slip inside. If the girl's stunned silence meant that she wouldn't ask annoying questions, Elphaba appreciated it.

She clomped up the stairs in her heavy boots. She would find Glinda later, let her know that she had returned unharmed. But respecting her squeamish host's house rules, she would first rid herself of her coat and footwear and drop them off at their designated places. On her way to the coat hangers and shoe cabinet by the main door, she passed the drawing room. The door was slightly ajar and light and voices were pouring out of the room. Glinda was still with her mother, it seemed. Elphaba wasn't one for eavesdropping, but when she heard her name, her ears pricked up and she reasoned that an open door was as good as an invitation. Curious, or maybe worried about what she might hear, she tiptoed closer.

The older and slightly taller of the two women stepped back, releasing Glinda from her tight, motherly embrace. "Take care my little cupcake," Elphaba heard her say as she planted gentle kisses on either cheek. "And do clear up that matter concerning your friend. If the problem that pains you so cannot be remedied, tell her to leave."

Elphaba's stomach dropped. So Glinda _was_ hiding something from her after all, that pretty, sweet, little liar! Elphaba cursed her own naivety. How stupid she had been to accept the invitation in the first place. She should have known better, should have seen this coming.

But Glinda shook her head, a smile on her lips that did not reach her tired and weary eyes. "Mumsy, I could never send Elphie away."

"Yes, I know, my dear. You are too good." Sadly, Elphaba agreed. No matter how challenging and utterly confusing it was emotionally, she somehow liked living with her former roommate again, but she didn't need Glinda's charity. "Just take care of yourself," Glinda's mother said, squeezing her daughter's hand before turning towards the door. "And perhaps you should look for a husband after all. Life is easier with a companion by your side."

Glinda's body turned rigid, her eyes narrowed ever so slightly and the corners of her mouth twitched. Elphaba knew this expression. It was Glinda trying to hide intense exasperation. More oft than not, she had used it on Elphaba – with only moderate success, although she might have believed the contrary. "I hope this is the last I'll ever hear of the matter, Mumsy," she said with false calm.

"Stay safe," her mother replied with a wink of her long lashes. "And don't forget to update me about any development concerning your Miss Thropp. You know, I worry about you."

They began to move towards the door now and Elphaba hurried to retreat. She escaped up the flight of stairs behind her, but as soon as she had reached the upper half of the staircase, she paused to listen. "Good night and a have a pleasant journey tomorrow," Glinda half yawned. "Make sure Puggles gave the cabbie the right address. He does seem to confuse the names of hotels at times."

The older woman nodded. She picked up her parasol and opened the door. Glinda waved once more and withdrew into to drawing room. The front door closed and silence fell. Elphaba was sitting on one of the steps, her arms wrapped around her folded legs, waiting for Glinda to reemerge. She waited patiently, but there was no sign of the petite blonde. Concerned, she pulled herself up by the railing and trudged down the stairs. The door was closed now and she hesitated to enter. Her worries gained the upper hand however, and so she took off her shoes and pushed open the door.

She found Glinda sunken in the furthest armchair, looking even tinier than usual. Her head was resting on her hand, with her elbow on the armrest of the chair. The sound of Elphaba's bare feet on the parquet flooring made her look up. "Oh, thank Lurline, there you are!" she sighed, honest relief loosening her tense body – a reaction Elphaba had not expected. Glinda wiggled her fingers in a hitherto motion and Elphaba complied, kneeling next to her chair. "I already saw you murdered and ditched in some dirty alley," Glinda whispered, absentmindedly stroking Elphaba's hair.

Elphaba's concern only deepened. There was a strange melancholy about Glinda she was unfamiliar with. "I cause you too much worry," she said tentatively.

A heavy sigh. "Oh, goodness knows you do."

The atmosphere, so heavy with gloom, was nearly crushing. Moving away, her head out of Glinda's reach, Elphaba caught her hands, holding them firmly between her own warm palms. She kissed them tenderly. "If I leave, the problem is solved," she said, hoping it would be that simple, but Glinda only seemed more upset.

"Shush, Elphie, don't be like this. Not now. I have worse things to despair about right now than your unruliness." She pulled her hands away and wrapped her arms around her waist in an attempt for comfort. Her eyes were still looking in Elphaba's direction, but had lost their focus. "My Popsicle passed away," she finally said, releasing a long breath. "You can't imagine how much he meant to me."

Elphaba only nodded, uncertain if any words would ever be good enough to console her friend. Instead of expressing her condolence, she asked, "Would you like to come to the music room so I can play for you?"

But Glinda sniffed and shook her head. "No, Elphie. But if you could hold me for a little bit. Just a short while."

How could Elphaba ever refuse such a request? She slowly rose to her feet and moved to sit on the armrest of the stuffed chair. Somewhat hesitantly, she draped her arm over Glinda's shoulder. The blonde looked up, then scooched over, pulling Elphaba with her. They were small enough and the chair quite big, allowing both of them to sit almost comfortably. Huddling as close as physically possible, Glinda found herself a little cove between Elphaba's chest and her arm. Elphaba's other arm slowly snaked around her back, her hand resting on the wrist of the other. This was how Miss Murtle found them the following morning, deep asleep.


End file.
